Clash
by Muddi the Mudkip
Summary: "You ask me what my purpose is, Fi? It is a bit like your story. Created for one use, and one use only: to serve a master. But I serve another purpose, you know. One you should know well. To destroy you." Spoilers for SS!


**SPOILERS! MAJOR SPOILERS! You've been warned.**

**Hey, everybody! After thinking it over for a while, I thought that Fi and Ghirahim would be a really good pairing together since, y'know, they're both swords. I don't think I did a very good job at writing them, but oh well. Enjoy!**

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><p>A shadow covers the elfin hero clad in green, but the young boy isn't what he's here for. No, he's here for a different reason. The gleaming hilt of the sword resting next to sleeping boy is his desire. A pale hand reaches out and unsheathes it, bringing out the humanoid version of the Master Sword.<p>

"Fi," he murmurs softly. "It's been a while."

She stares him down with her unnerving glare. "Ghirahim," she says coldly. "You have no business here. There is an 85 percent chance of Master Link waking up and using me to defeat you again."

Ghirahim snarls and says, "Well, doesn't that leave me a healthy 15 percent?"

Fi's eyes bore into him. "What is your purpose here?"

"Oh, Fi, drop the act," Ghirahim says while rolling his eyes. "You're not fooling anyone with your robotic impersonation. I remember when you used to be so joyful, so healthy, so-" he reaches out a hand to stroke her delicate face, "-full of life."

She slaps him with her wings, but they cut through him like the sword she is. Dark red liquid streams down from Ghirahim's wrist, but he shrugs it off. "What's wrong with you, Fi?" he asks her softly. "Did the goddess taint you?"

"I am the servant of the Goddess, and I am here to protect her," she tells him sourly.

"That fool Impa is the servant of the Goddess, not you, milady. You are merely a tool."

Fi narrowed her eyes and snarled, "That is false. I am not a tool; I am the savior of the Goddess. I serve to protect her."

Ghirahim spat and pointed towards Link. "That _boy _saves the Goddess. Face it, Fi: you are not as important as you claim you are."

Her eyes flashed wildly with the vigor that was only seen when she was in combat with him. "That's a lie. You know nothing, Ghirahim, and you still don't. I am a vital part in saving the Goddess. What is your purpose? Nothing, that's what."

He began to laugh. His raucous guffaws shook the trees of Faron Woods so hard that the boy in green started to stir. Noticing this, Ghirahim regained his composure and smoothed down his cape.

"Oh, Fi," he whispers. "Still naïve as ever. Try to think beyond your mission. Try to think beyond statistics and the Goddess. Try to think of me."

She lowers her head and whispers, "I tried that once, and it was a fatal mistake."

He outreaches a hand and lifts her head back to meet his gaze. "You ask me what my purpose is, Fi? It is simple. It is a bit like your story. Created for one use, and one use only: to serve a master." He lets go of the grip he had on her and gains a sentimental look. "But perhaps, it is a bit more complicated than that. I serve another purpose, you know. One you should know well." He leans in close and whispers in her ear, "To destroy you."

His voice chills the unnerving Fi to the hilt, but she continues to stare him down. "Get out of here and never come back."

"Do you really believe I would abide to such a simplistic order? Please, Fi, stop making me laugh."

"Look, Ghirahim," she says coldly. "Whatever history we may have had together doesn't matter anymore. Whatever feelings I might have had for you don't exist anymore." She narrows her eyes. "However, there is a 95 percent chance that your feelings for me still exist."

Ghirahim is taken aback. "_Me_? Ever like _you_? Don't be silly, Fi; it's one of the many things that you aren't."

"But didn't you say it yourself?" Fi asks him. "That no sword could ever match my speed? My blade? My personality?"

Ghirahim crosses his arms and sticks a nose up in the air. "Just because you are one of the few swords that actually comes alive doesn't mean I would ever like you."

"What about all of our battles? Our fights together? You and me, fighting it out to the end. What happened to all of that?"

Ghirahim snarls and snaps, "Don't try to confuse me, Fi. I started this conversation first!"

Fi giggles and says, "Same as always, I see."

A lonely wind whistles through the trees, and Ghirahim looks down at the sleeping boy. "He is strong," he says. "He wields you with great caliber. But he will never be able to fight against Demise and I. We will never have that final battle we always talked about."

Fi ruffles her dress. "Watch him. We can accomplish great things together." Her regained composure makes Ghirahim notice her better.

"My scars…" he whispers. "They're still on you." he reaches out to gingerly touch the slash on Fi's diamond chest, but she slaps him away.

"Yes, your blade's edge still remains on me," she growls. "But if I see correctly, my scars on you still remain on you as well."

Ghirahim's eyes flash wildly. He remembers the time they battled last. Hundreds of years ago, when the goddess Hylia didn't reside in the body of a mortal, she and Demise battled each other using their respective swords. Hylia parried with Fi, and Demise fought back with Ghirahim, but they were equally matched in skill and sword. No one would win, but no one would surrender. Finally, Hylia sliced Demise's sword out of his reach, and the battle was won.

Ghirahim licks his lips. He can still remember the taste of Fi's blade on him.

"If there was ever a moment in history where I could change it," he muses, "I would go back to when we were first created and convert you to my side. We could have been great partners, Fi."

"Partners?" she asks with a seemingly raised eyebrow. "Or lovers?"

The word sends a shiver down his spine. "I won't deny it anymore, Fi. I admit, I did love you at one point. You returned my feelings, that I'm sure of. Don't you wish, just for a second, that we could change every thing? That we could go back to being young and foolish?"

Her eyes stared him down. "There was never a time like that. Stop fantasizing. We have always been the bane of each other's existence. I was made to destroy you, and you were made to destroy me. That has always been the reality."

"But the dream," he says, licking his lips once more, "is to be together."

Fi doesn't have the time to react with a statistical quip to Ghirahim's outlandish statement before his lips crash onto hers. For an object that has no capability of feeling emotion, her humanoid figure is stimulated with feeling. Somehow this creature is able to make her feel this way. She hasn't felt this alive since their last battle together.

Regrettably, he releases his lips from hers after a while, and he's panting up a storm. "Fi," he whispers. "Let's run away together. Forget Hylia and Demise. Let's just be together, forever."

"I have a duty to my master," Fi states. "As do you." She lowers her head, but she drifts closer to him. Her cold exterior brushes against his surprisingly warm body. "However, just this night together could be a nice replacement."

Ghirahim wraps an arm around her. "I would like that."

They remain that way for the rest of the night, her in his arms.

The next morning, Link wakes up to see his sword unsheathed. He picks up the hilt and raises it skyward. Emanating from it is the sword's spirit.

"Fi?" he asks her. "What happened? I found you unsheathed."

Her eyes flash wildly. "There is a 95 percent chance that I accidentally was knocked out of my sheath during the night. There is no reason for alarm."

"Oh, alright then."

When he puts her back, she thinks to herself, "However, there is still a 5 percent chance of a purposeful reason I was out."

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><p><strong>Bah, not very good, right? Ah well. Please review and tell me how I can improve!<strong>


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